


Every Dog Should Have A Boy

by PeggyPincurls



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, Everybody Lives, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Peggy Carter Lives, Protective Peggy Carter, Protective Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers Feels, Team as Family, Time Travel Fix-It, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-24 16:05:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10745076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeggyPincurls/pseuds/PeggyPincurls
Summary: Peggy and Bucky gave Steve a puppy for Christmas, as we read in "Out Without a Map".  They even bought large breed puppy chow.  So...why isn't he growing?





	Every Dog Should Have A Boy

They leaned over him exactly the way a worried mother and uncle might hover over an ill or injured child.

"I don't get it," Bucky said.

"He's fine," Peggy said. "I mean, he has tons of energy--it's a nightmare trying to get him to go to sleep sometimes--and he eats like a small truck driver. It's definitely not illness, or malnutrition."

"Are we feeding him the wrong food or something?" Bucky worried aloud. "I mean, we got _large breed_ puppy chow."

Brooklyn, for his part, was thrilled at all the attention and gazed adoringly up at Mumma and Uncle Bucky, tongue lolling out of his seemingly smiling jaws. He jumped, once, hoping that Uncle Bucky might take the hint that it was time to play. 

"No! As I said, he eats it," Peggy said. "I mean, he eats _everything_. He begs for scraps constantly, Darcy is always feeding him junk, and Steve has become meticulous about taking out the rubbish straightaway because he'll just eat _garbage_ out of the wastebin if we let him. He's a menace! An adorable, adorable menace," she sighed, reaching for the pup. Brooklyn went happily to her, licking at her chin in a frenzy. "See? Does this look like a sick dog to you?"

"Nope," Bucky agreed. "But that doesn't change the fact he's still...you know... _small_. I thought German Shepherds were supposed to be _big_."

"It hasn't been _that_ long," Peggy mused, but Bucky shook his head.

"It's been long enough that he ought to be three times that size right now. Maybe more." Bucky sighed. "I mean, we got him because the idea was that he could go running with Steve."

"We _got_ him because Steve wanted a puppy and he _is_ a puppy," Peggy admonished, not liking to hear anything negative about her "baby" despite her own worries. "But yes, we had intended to get a large working breed so that he would be active enough to keep up with Steve."

Brooklyn wiggled in her arms, as if trying to prove how active he could be. His stocky little body quivered with eagerness, and he knew "Steve" meant Daddy, which always meant a walk and playtime. The pup looked about, craning his neck around Peggy's shoulder and looking towards the door, ready to run if Steve came in; after a moment or two, he turned a quizzical look up to her, as if to say _Where Daddy? You said Stevename._

"I don't get it," Bucky said again. "His coloring's right. I mean, his ears are a little big, but he's got the shape, it's just..." He glanced at Brooklyn's stubby little legs. "He's kinda...short." He wrinkled his nose. "I mean, has Steve said anything?"

Peggy rolled her eyes and sighed through her nose. "Yes. 'Peg, take a picture!' about every five minutes. Every time the dog blinks or barks or rolls over or prances or snores, Steve wants me to take a picture. We have pictures of the dog sleeping on his shield. We have pictures of the dog sitting at my vanity table covered in my violet face powder. We have pictures of the dog having a bath. We have pictures of the dog dressed as Captain America with a tiny shield. We have pictures of the dog on Thor's head. We have pictures of the dog chasing Darcy and Lucky. We have pictures of the dog on Pepper's desk 'helping' her answer interoffice emails. We have pictures of the dog 'battling' Uncle Iron Man. We have pictures of the dog playing tug-of-war over a slice of pizza with Clint. We have pictures of the dog wearing Dr. Banner's glasses on his nose. We have pictures of the dog eating my brand-new B.A.I.T. pumps that cost me fifty quid to replace. We could fill up an entire album and call it 'Brooklyn's Baby Book'. Steve is worse than literally the worst new parent of an infant. He's obsessed. He wouldn't notice if the dog had three tails."

"So he's pretty attached," Bucky said.

"Attached? He would add a pocket to his uniform for the dog if--" Her eyes narrowed. "What are you saying, Barnes?"

"Nothing! Nothing." Bucky put out his hands to ward off her potential accusation. "But we should probably get him checked out or something. Peg, he's not growing. I mean, he's growing _longer_ , but not _taller_. Not _bigger_. If something's wrong, we have to know about it and we've got to tell Steve. We've got to take him to the vet."

Peggy's eyes widened. "Don't say the--"

Too late. Brooklyn, hearing the hated v-word, immediately sprang out of Peggy's arms and bolted. She made a grab for him, but ended up with a handful of air.

"Bloody nora!" she growled. "Barnes, grab him, since you're the one who scared him off!"

For a small dog with stumpy legs, Brooklyn was incredibly fast. With a scrabbling of claws and a comical blur of little feet, he was off like a shot. Bucky made a heroic dive for him as he streaked out of the living room and under the kitchen table, but Brooklyn escaped into the bedroom and Bucky ended up whacking his head on one of the kitchen chairs. Insult to injury, on his way through the kitchen, Brooklyn bulled right through the wastebin, knocking it over and running through the spilled garbage for good measure, tracking ketchup and dirt into the bedroom.

" _Damn it_ ," Bucky snarled, rubbing his head in pain. "How was I supposed to know he knows what 'vet' means?"

"Oh, he's smart as a whip," Peggy sighed, helping her friend up. "He knows 'Mumma', 'Daddy', 'Steve', 'Peggy', 'Bucky', 'Darcy', 'walk', 'food', 'pillow', 'pizza', 'vet', and 'bath'. Also don't say bath. He'll probably need one now if he is where I think he is."

He was indeed where Peggy was afraid he might be--under her and Steve's bed, curled up in the furthest corner he could smoosh himself into. He was covered in dust bunnies, ketchup, pepper flakes and other assorted bits of rubbish, and he had no intention of coming out. Peggy, being smaller, eventually had to crawl under the bed and chase him out to where Bucky was waiting to scoop him up.

"Gotcha, you little escape ninja," Bucky said, grabbing the puppy. "Come on, bud, let's get you cleaned up and we'll go for a nice ride in an Uber. Uncle Bucky's treat."

Since Bucky had inadvertently started the chase, he agreed to give the dog a bath while Peggy cleaned up the spilled garbage and mopped and vacuumed the floors. She used the extra time to restyle her hair, which had gotten mussed when she'd had to crawl under the bed, and loaned Bucky one of Steve's t-shirts, as Brooklyn's attempts to escape the unwanted bath had resulted in Bucky's shirt getting saturated. 

Seeing the nervous look on Brooklyn's face and the way he quivered now that he knew he was going to the vet, Peggy decided to call in a favor and rang Pepper. She didn't think an Uber driver would be amiable to a panicky dog wiggling all over the backseat of the car or to chasing him through Manhattan if he managed to escape, but Happy Hogan was a pretty laid-back man. He'd probably enjoy it.

**

"Door-to-door doggie delivery," Tony Stark said cheekily half an hour later, rolling down the tinted window of the luxury car Pepper had sent.

"Tony!" Peggy exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"Being nosy, Aunt Peggy. Get in, just don't let the mutt hair up my clothes." Tony moved over on the seat; there was plenty of room for himself, Peggy and Bucky--even for Brooklyn, but the dog insisted on huddling miserably in Peggy's lap because, vet. 

"Hello, Mr. Hogan," Peggy called up through the open partition. "Thank you for coming on such short notice."

"You bet, Agent Carter," Happy answered. "So what's wrong with the pup?"

Brooklyn whimpered. 

"There, there, now, don't sulk," Peggy murmured to the puppy. "You aren't sick. We're simply taking you to the vet for a little checkup, and you may have a treat if you are good."

"He's not getting a treat. My shirt is history," Bucky grumped. "And there was ketchup in my hair."

Tony revealed his real reason for coming. "So yeah, _what_ exactly is wrong with the dog? After hearing you on the phone with Pepper I figured this explanation's got to be good."

"No one asked you to come," Peggy snapped. "Happy should have put you in the boot."

Happy roared at that, and Tony told him to remember who signed his paychecks, to which Happy and Bucky both answered, "Pepper."

Bucky had begun to pet Brooklyn soothingly, with his right hand. "Remember when we got him, Peg?" he asked.

Peggy smiled.

**

_True to her word, Peggy showed up at Bucky's simple apartment very early that morning, a few weeks before Christmas. She briefly mothered him disapprovingly when she saw he did not have a proper winter coat, telling him there would be one under the tree in her and Steve's apartment for him on Christmas morning with the rest of his presents._

_"I've got presents?" Bucky blurted out, surprised by the idea._

_Peggy looked at him as though he were dumber than a stone. "Yes, Sergeant Barnes. It will be Christmas morning, and you must have presents to open. Speaking of presents, are you ready to go pick out Steve's?"_

_Bucky made a mental note to ask Steve what Peggy might like for a Christmas present, feeling like he couldn't show up for breakfast that morning without something for her after hearing that, and simply nodded._

_They took the subway to the shelter, and on the way discussed what sort of dog they thought might suit Steve best. Peggy thought a working breed, as they were easy to train and had good temperaments. Bucky agreed, adding that he thought Steve might like a dog he could run with, since he'd spent so much of his life unable to truly be active. Peggy liked that idea._

_It was harder than Bucky had thought to see the animals in the shelter, the puppies and kittens, the older dogs; he felt an odd sort of kinship with them being cooped up and not really "home". Peggy seemed to sense his discomfort and took his arm--the left one, the one that she always paid more attention to when she was attempting to soothe him. He appreciated her complete fearlessness in regard to the arm, and it was enough to keep him at her side as they sought out a volunteer._

_"My brother and I are here to adopt a puppy," Peggy said smoothly, and Bucky tried not to smile as he remembered her passionate declaration of "you will be my brother" on the long-ago, nightmarish day they had made the plan to be in this very shelter, "as a surprise present for my boyfriend, but we are unsure of how exactly to go about it."_

_"No problem, I can help you out," the young man said, shifting the bag of dog food he was holding onto one hip so he could shake Peggy's hand._

_"Oh, and my brother here would like to hold a kitten," Peggy said cheekily._

_Bucky tensed, immediately thinking of his arm, the metal hand curling into a nervous fist. "Carter, shut up," he hissed._

_The volunteer laughed. "You're in luck. We've got a whole bunch. Right this way."_

_Bucky made a grab for Peggy as she happily followed the young man towards an enclosed area containing a scratching post apparatus covered in mewing kittens, reaching out to accept the one the volunteer was handing her._

_"Peggy--"_

_But it was too late. Peggy had a kitten and was carefully depositing it into his arms. "Peg, **no**. Peggy--"_

_The kitten's claws hooked into his sweatshirt, assuaging any fear he had of dropping it, and then it was climbing him, the little claws pinching as it made its way up to his shoulder with a triumphant squeak._

_"Oh my god. No. No. Stop." And yet despite himself he was chuckling as Peggy put another kitten in his arms while the first one decided to get a look at the view from the top of his head. It gave another squeak as its claws tangled in his hair. "Put that phone down, damn it, don't you dare take a picture of this."_

_"Too late." Peggy was smirking. "Oh, that is too cute. Look at you, kitten! You are king of Mount Barnes. Smile for the camera!" She glanced affectionately at the one who had decided to lay along Bucky's metal forearm, which was safely encased in his sweatshirt sleeve. "Looks like that one stayed at base camp."_

_"I hate you." But he was smiling as he took the kitten carefully from off his head. It reached a tiny paw to pat at his face. The other one had curled up in the crook of his left arm and was purring._

_"They like you," the volunteer declared._

_"They're...they're actually pretty cute," Bucky said, forgetting to be angry as he handed the kittens back to the young man. "But we're not here to cover me in kittens, Peg, remember? We're here for Steve's puppy?"_

_"Aha. Yes. We were actually hoping for someone's little castoff," Peggy said. "One who could use a little bit of love."_

_"Oh, have I got the dogs for you, then," the volunteer said, motioning for them to follow him. "These guys just got big enough to be separated from their mom, and we really hope we can find homes for all of them because it's kind of a sad situation."_

_Bucky and Peggy exchanged looks; Bucky wasn't sure he wanted to hear a sad story after the feeling of the warm kittens against his chest._

_"The owner had a purebred Shepherd bitch, and apparently the dog next door got across the fence and one thing led to another. The guy was a real jerk, actually. Said she was no good if she was carrying a litter from a mongrel. Dumped her here and she had the puppies a couple of months ago. Someone adopted her and one of the pups, but he couldn't take them all and we've got three more that need homes. Someone's coming to look at them today, but it'd be great if you wanted one, too. I'm just about to feed them."_

_Peggy squeezed Bucky's arm, and he knew she was already sold. Peggy was a sucker for a hard-luck story--at least when it was a true story._

_The puppies were in a kennel; Peggy and Bucky watched as the volunteer poured kibble into a bowl, then gave them fresh water. As he'd said, there were three of them, cute little ones with short brown fur and tiny little legs._

_Two of the puppies were a little bigger than the third. They immediately crowded around the food dish, and when the third one, the smallest one, tried to get near it, he was gently nudged away by the bigger ones._

_"Oi!" Peggy exclaimed as the second puppy pushed the third away again. "Look at those little bullies."_

_"Yeah," the volunteer chuckled. "He's the runt. He keeps trying, though. Don't worry about him. He's a tough little dude. He'll get in. Watch."_

_The next time, the puppy actually went sprawling as his brother and sister lost their patience with him. Getting to his feet with a whiny growl, he shook himself. A piece of his ear was missing, probably from a play-fight with his siblings, but he had plenty of ear left--they seemed to dwarf his head. Peggy had never seen a Shepherd puppy with such big ears._

_"We **gotta** get that one," Bucky declared. "I mean, look at him. It's **him**. It's Steve."_

_Peggy watched the little puppy race back to the food dish, and get headbutted out of the way once more. He tumbled ears over tail outside the group once more, but got up and made his determined way back over. Once the bigger pups had had their fill, the little one settled comfortably down at the food dish, eating what kibble was left, and if it bothered him to have gotten the leftovers simply because he was smaller, he didn't let it show. Instead, he made annoying, happy little satisfied sounds as he crunched and chewed._

_Peggy felt herself smiling. "Indeed," she said softly. Looking at the shelter volunteer, she said, "We'd like to see that little one, please. When he's done eating, of course. He's earned it."_

**

"And then Mumma and Uncle Bucky brought you to your forever home and Daddy had the best Christmas morning ever," Bucky told Brooklyn. "The end."

Peggy gave Bucky an affectionate shove. "You are incorrigible."

Tony snorted. "You guys _would_ pick the runt."

"He is _not_ a runt," Peggy said protectively, cuddling Brooklyn. "He is perfect."

"We just want to know why he's only growing sideways," Bucky said. 

"He is sort of short," Tony agreed. "Like a footstool."

"You put those expensive wingtips anywhere near my little one and I shall feed them to you," Peggy said.

Tony grinned. "You have the weirdest biological clock ever, Aunt Peggy."

She kicked him.

**

For an animal, Brooklyn was incredibly expressive. As he stood on the vet's table, he looked doubtfully up at Peggy, who held his leash and pet him, murmuring comfort. 

"Aha, Brooklyn Rogers," Dr. Lillian, the vet Pepper had researched and chosen for Peggy and Steve, said as she swept into the room. "Good to see you again! Hello, Agent Carter. Sergeant Barnes. How is the Captain?"

Bucky, who was more comfortable with doggy doctors than people ones, inclined his head politely. He liked Lillian, who took a genuine interest in her patients and knew all of them by name and personality. She was pretty in the way that had missed the turn to beautiful by a few mere inches, with a sweet rounded jaw and a turned up nose. Her freckles were gorgeous, her copper hair always neatly twisted up or tied in a ponytail. Today it was the latter. 

"Working today, but he is well, thank you," Peggy said. "He actually doesn't know we're here; I don't want to worry him unless it's necessary."

"My goodness, to what do we owe the attention of the illustrious Tony Stark?" Lillian continued teasingly, noticing Tony.

"Curiosity," Tony said smoothly. Being in love with Pepper had not cured him of his habit of turning on the charm in front of pretty women. "I wanted to know the procedure for treating dogs that look like end tables."

"You're riding home in the boot," Peggy said flatly. 

"Hi, Brooklyn!" Dr. Lillian sang, and the dog looked up nervously at the sound of his name. Lillian was never anything but friendly or gentle with him, but a vet was still a vet. "Tell Dr. Lillian what's wrong."

"Well, that's just it," Peggy said. " _Nothing_ is wrong, really. He is energetic and happy. He eats like crazy, and he loves to play. He sleeps well. He behaves...mostly. He's a very good little dog."

Brooklyn wagged his stump of a tail--another concern Bucky hadn't had the presence of mind to voice--as if to prove he was a very good little dog and maybe Mumma would take him home to Daddy and away from the scary vet. 

Bucky cleared his throat. "But that's why we're here. He's still, you know... _little_."

"Step over here, my good man," Dr. Lillian said, picking the quivering Brooklyn up and placing him on the scale in the office. After tinkering with it for a moment, she said, "Well, he seems at a healthy weight to me. He could maybe even stand to lose a pound."

"Bloody Darcy and her bloody Central Park hot dogs," Peggy muttered, and Tony laughed. 

Lillian laughed too. "Don't worry, Agent Carter. He's young, and if he's as active as you say, he'll burn it off. You said his appetite is good?"

Peggy nodded. 

Lillian began the usual routine of an examination. "But you're concerned about his size?"

"Yes," Peggy said. "Don't get me wrong, we adore him--Steve adores him--but I was under the impression he would be bigger by now. Should we be concerned?"

Lillian went to her file on Brooklyn, which one of her assistants had dropped into the holder on the back of the examination room door. "Well, given his background, I actually think he's within perfectly normal parameters for a mixed breed of his type. He'll likely get a little longer, but his height seems just about where it should be."

"What?" Peggy said.

"How can that be?" Bucky said. "I mean, I know he was the runt of the litter, but aren't German Shepherds supposed to be, you know, _huge_?"

Lillian ruffled Brooklyn's headfur. "Looks like you take after your dad a bit more than your mom, fella."

Peggy and Bucky exchanged looks. It dawned on Peggy first.

"The volunteer at the shelter said his mother was a German Shepherd who'd gotten a litter on her from the dog next door," she realized. "We didn't ask what sort of dog it was."

Bucky slapped his forehead. "Don't say chihuahua, don't say chihuahua..."

Tony burst out laughing. 

**

After receiving a clean bill of health and all the information Peggy would need to bring Steve up to speed on now that the mystery had been solved, they waited on the sidewalk for Happy to bring the car around and take them back to the Tower. 

"What are we going to do?" Bucky asked. 

"What do you mean, what are we going to do?" Peggy said frostily. "We are going to go home with our dog."

"But," Tony supplied unhelpfully, "you _are_ going to have to tell Spangles that you made a mistake."

"We did _not_ make a mistake," Peggy said ferociously, kneeling to hug Brooklyn. "My dog is not a mistake!"

"Calm down, Peg," Bucky said. "And she's right, Stark. We're just going to tell Steve the truth."

"Fine, but don't you think he'll be disappointed that he doesn't have a huge dog to run with in the park?" Tony asked. "What if he...you know...wants to...like, exchange?"

Peggy and Bucky exchanged a sad look. 

Bucky knelt beside Peggy to pet Brooklyn. "Don't worry, pal. I'm not going to let anything happen to you. Uncle Bucky stuck around just to meet you, did you know that? Your mom asked me to come help bring you home."

Peggy smiled, remembering that long-ago day on the bridge. "That's true," she said, standing up and offering her hand. "I could not have done it without you, Sergeant Barnes."

Bucky took Peggy's hand and let her pull him to his feet, lingering for one second to give her hand a squeeze before taking Brooklyn's leash. "Come on, let's go see Steve."

**

When Peggy heard what Steve had spent the morning doing, she felt even worse--he'd been in a hospital ward, visiting terminally ill children. It was a delight to watch Steve on those sorts of assignments--he was extremely gentle and friendly with the children, which was to be expected, answering their questions and reading to them when they asked, but he always returned in a fragile mood, guilty and frustrated over the things even a super-soldier couldn't fight, like sickness and pain and death. 

He lit up when he came off the elevator in his civvies and saw them waiting for him in the rec room that was sort of the gateway to the Avengers' living quarters; Peggy imagined he had come back to change clothes or work out before returning to their own apartment. "Hi!" he said, as if they were a wonderful surprise. "How'd you guys know I needed you today?" He drew Peggy into his arms, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips, and her heart melted; it must have been a rough morning indeed if he were displaying his affection so publicly in front of Tony and Pepper (he was a little more relaxed in front of Bucky). 

Brooklyn immediately forgot all the terror and nervousness of the visit to the vet, breaking into the happy barking squirmy dance of "Dad's home" that he performed whenever Steve appeared, twining in and out between Steve's and Peggy's ankles as though he were more cat than dog. 

"There's my good boy," Steve said, bending and scooping the dog into his arms. "I missed you today, pal. Maybe Miss Pepper can wrangle a deal where I can bring you to the hospital with me. Would you like that, buddy? Would you like to play with the kids?"

Brooklyn barked, and Peggy smiled, wondering not for the first time if the dog could actually understand them after all. 

"I think the poor mutt's had enough of doctors for one day," Tony quipped, and Peggy could have decked him. Bucky turned a furious look on him and muttered, "God damn it, Stark."

Steve tensed. "What do you mean? Was he hurt? Was one of you hurt? What's wrong?"

Peggy touched his arm. "Steve--"

"Let me," Tony said, and while his tone was gentle to Peggy, it was completely blunt as he announced, "Your dog's defective, Spangles."

"Tony!" Peggy scolded. 

"What?" Steve's face immediately slid to horror, clutching the dog. "What's wrong with Brooklyn? We can take him to the vet."

"We just took him to the vet," Bucky said, and then put out his hands in an I-mean-no-harm gesture as Brooklyn shuddered in Steve's arms, ready to run and hide. "Nooooo, pal. We're already done with the vet, remember? Vet all gone. Please don't make Uncle Bucky give you another bath. I'm running out of shirts."

"What's goi--isn't that _my_ shirt?" Steve interrupted himself, realizing Bucky had on one of his t-shirts.

"Long story," Bucky sighed.

"The dog is not _defective_ ," Peggy said, glaring at Tony. "It's simply that the dog is not the breed we originally assumed he was."

Steve blinked, looking at Brooklyn. "Breed?"

"Yeah. He's not a full German Shepherd, he's a mix," Bucky said.

Steve visibly relaxed. "Oh! Well, what's wrong with that?"

" _Nothing_ ," Peggy remonstrated firmly, arms crossed over her simple button-down blouse. "It's simply that what he is mixed with is...well..."

"A stumpy-legged footstool dog," Tony said cheekily.

"A _Corgi_ ," Peggy retorted.

"He's a Corman Shepherd," Bucky blurted out.

"He's basically an ottoman," Tony said. 

" _Fine_ , Tony, yes, he is _small_. His legs are _short_. He is _little_. We are all aware of this and no longer need you to point it out. Thank you very much and go to hell forever," Peggy said, fully exasperated with Tony at this point.

Steve was still hugging Brooklyn, and the pup was relieved to have the attention, licking at Steve's strong chin. "I don't understand, everyone," Steve said softly. "Why are you all so upset? Were you worried about telling me this or something? I mean, he's going to be OK, isn't he? Peg?" He looked hopefully at her.

"Yes, darling," Peggy assured him, touching his shoulder. "He is in perfect health and will be fine. I promise."

"Then why do you all look so nervous?"

"He's just, he's never going to get any bigger than this," Bucky said. "Any taller, I mean. When Peg and I picked him out, he was a baby, and we thought he was a full Shepherd. We were hoping he'd be able to run with you; I know you were looking forward to that. It was an accident." He looked sheepish. 

Steve blinked, confused. He held Brooklyn up in front of him, and the pup gave him a big, sloppy lick, looking at him with adoring eyes.

Tony turned to Peggy and Bucky and gave them a big, smarmy wink that reminded Peggy so much of Howard it hurt. Before Steve could notice, he pointed quickly to himself, then piped up in a tone of overexaggerated helpfulness, striding forward and neatly plucking the dog from Steve's arms, giving him an entirely out-of-character squeeze. Brooklyn, who rarely received such attention from Uncle Tony, was happy to allow this.

Tony ruffled Brooklyn's headfur affectionately. "You know, Rogers, we could totally get you a purebred if that's what you want. I know a few breeders. A Shepherd, or even a Rottweiler or a mastiff. Something tough. And if you don't want to do that, Pepper could definitely do some research. Just say the word."

It was exactly the right thing to say--because it was exactly the _wrong_ thing to say. Steve whirled immediately on Tony. "Wait a minute," he said. "Are you saying that's it? Are you saying we should just take Brooklyn back to the shelter because he isn't a big, strong dog? Because he doesn't _look_ 'tough'?"

Peggy felt nervous, but Tony was visibly fighting a smile--it was clear in his eyes this was going according to whatever plan he had.

"No, I just thought that--"

"You thought that because he's a little _small_ , and maybe he can't _run_ as fast as other dogs, that maybe he's not _good_ enough, is that it?" Steve said loudly. "Well, forget that, Stark. Just because he's small doesn't mean he can't do things. He's not any less important or good just because he's little."

Peggy and Bucky exchanged looks, the realization coming to them at exactly the same time, and then Peggy turned to look lovingly at Steve, remembering the small, slender recruit who had stolen her heart when he'd unpinned a flag from a flagpole that no soldier had yet been able to reach.

That flag unfurled in her eyes as she pronounced firmly, "The dog stays." 

The smile Steve gave her warmed her down to her toes. 

Tony shrugged, and let his own smile come. "You're the boss, Spangles." 

"Damn right I am. Now give me my dog." He took Brooklyn from Tony, and when he turned his back Tony flashed Peggy and Bucky another wink, to which Peggy mouthed _Thank you_ with a suspicious shine in her eyes. 

Steve stalked out with a straight back and an almost arrogant tilt of his blond head. He could be heard talking to the puppy as he made his exit, proving to Peggy that his thoughts--and his heart--had gone exactly where hers had. "Come on, Brooklyn, let's go to the park. I'll tell you about how Daddy impressed Mumma by fetching her a flag when Daddy wasn't that much bigger than you are now. You should have seen her smile. And Daddy decided right then and there that Mumma was the only girl for him..."

Bucky gave Peggy a knowing smile, and Peggy blushed, turning her face away demurely. 

"Not all heroes wear capes," she said to distract them from her pleasure at Steve's flattery, offering Tony the rare gift of a hug. "Well done, Tony. Well done."

"Any time, Aunt Peggy," Tony laughed, accepting the embrace. "It's hilarious how attached he is to that mutt."

"He's not a mutt. He's a Corman Shepherd," Bucky said sagely. "Thanks, Stark. We owe you one."

"Just try not to break your arm for a couple of weeks, jerk," Tony said. "You're seriously depleting my vibranium stores."

"Maybe you should get a dog, Stark," Bucky said. "You were pretty cute with Brooklyn today."

" _No_ ," a voice blared over the intercom in the wall that JARVIS usually spoke from. Everyone jumped, and then Pepper continued. " _Trust me, dealing with Tony is hard enough!_ "

Tony frowned at the intercom; Peggy burst out laughing.

**

Steve insisted on Brooklyn sleeping in the bed with them that night. Peggy, still feeling guilty over scaring the pup with the vet and moreso for ever even entertaining the idea that Steve might not want him anymore, agreed to this "just for one night", and the puppy that was "too small" ended up sprawled out in the center of the mattress with most of the bed to himself while Peggy ended up curled in a ball in one corner and Steve awoke with a yell when he fell out of the bed entirely. Peggy hid under the duvet like a beast in a lair, growling and throwing her pillow at Steve, who knew better than to argue about who was taking Brooklyn for his walk that morning.

Upon returning, however, Brooklyn padded into the bedroom with a paper bag clutched carefully in his teeth; inside it was a big red velvet cupcake for Peggy, just the thing to go with her tea when the noise of their arrival woke her up for good. Peggy and Steve shared the cupcake in the kitchen while Brooklyn slurped whipped cream out of his dish; Steve said it was called a "puppacino" and Peggy laughed so hard she sprayed crumbs all over the table. 

After the breakfast dishes were done, Steve sat at the kitchen table, carefully painting Brooklyn's name on his food dish in primary colors and capital letters. "All yours, buddy," he said, showing the dish to Brooklyn. "This is home."

Brooklyn barked, and Peggy had to turn her shining eyes away. Home, indeed.

**

About a week later, Peggy shambled into the gym at the Tower in workout clothes, still half-asleep and muttering, to meet Natasha for a sparring session. "You have an unfair advantage," she grumbled. "Asking to meet at dawn is unfair."

"You were in the army," Natasha scoffed, tying her red hair back off her face. "Put on your big-girl knickers and deal with it."

Peggy wasn't in the mood for piss-take. "I only got to bed at 2 AM, thanks to the bloody paperwork on the protection detail Barnes and I had to do."

"I'll go easy on you."

"You do and I'll never respect you again," Peggy retorted, taking her gloves out of her duffel bag. "Bad enough bloody Steve woke me up because he insists on running to watch the sun come up."

"Yeah, I saw him," Natasha said. "I can't _believe_ you let him take the dog."

"Darcy has the dog," Peggy said, feeling a twinge of worry.

"Darcy is _snoring_ ," Natasha corrected. "Steve told her she could sleep in, and he took the dog with him."

Peggy dropped her gloves, which she had only just started to put on. "We must find them. He can't possibly expect Brooklyn to keep up with him. He'll run the poor dog to death."

Natasha smirked. "Trust me, Carter. It's fine."

"You are a scorpion woman," an equally exhausted Bucky groused as he all but sleepwalked through the doors. Natasha took a moment to admire how his jogging pants clung to his thighs, a fact that was not lost on Peggy. "Couldn't we have rescheduled this?"

"Put on your big-girl knickers and deal with it," both women said to him. 

Before Bucky could reply, Steve jogged energetically through the doors, glazed with a healthy sheen of sweat, a backpack on his back. "Hi, Pegs! I didn't know you were coming in. Good morning, Bucky, Natasha."

"What's so Bucky about it?" Barnes was leaning against the padded wall of the gym. Opening bleary eyes, he said, "What's with the backpack?"

Natasha chuckled.

"It's not a backpack!" Steve said cheerfully, turning to show them. "It's a dog carrier. Pepper ordered it for me."

Peggy jolted awake. "Steven Grant Rogers! Did you put Brooklyn in that backpack?!"

Hearing his name, Brooklyn poked his head happily up through the opening of the backpack and barked. 

"Brooklyn?!" Bucky exclaimed.

Steve grinned. "And you all thought he wouldn't be able to run with me."

"You cannot run with the dog in a backpack!"

"It's a _carrier_ , Peg. He loves it! Look!"

True, Brooklyn was panting happily. 

"It's just like doing a ruck in basic," Steve concluded. "Only better, because now I have a dog!"

Peggy turned to Bucky. "He never had a pet when you were children, did he?"

"Nope, but he's clearly making up for lost time," Bucky laughed. "You picked a great present, Peg."

" _We_ picked a great present," Peggy corrected him gently. "And we picked the perfect dog, apparently."

Steve had put the backpack gently down onto the padded floor of the gym and fished a treat out of one of its pockets. "Who was a good boy while we ran today?" he asked, offering it to Brooklyn, who happily crunched on it. "You were! Who's Daddy's little soldier?"

"I swear, if the bad guys ever find out what a dork you are, Rogers, we are screwed," Natasha said dryly. 

"Do they make those for kittens?" Bucky asked.

Everyone, including Brooklyn, stopped and turned to look at him.

"What?" the Winter Soldier asked defensively. "What'd I say?"

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a joke and spun completely out of control. Now Brooklyn is here to stay. <3 The title of this story is a quote by Erma Bombeck, and it pretty much sums up Brooklyn and Steve in my heart.


End file.
